


When Wishes Come True

by SherbetLemon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Flustered Lance (Voltron), Haircuts, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, I see your trope and raise you one hammock, Kissing, Klance Mission, LITERALLY, Lance cuts Keith's hair, Lance loses his voice, M/M, Magic, Sharing a Bed, Truth Spells, White-haired Keith, Wishes, Wishes come true, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherbetLemon/pseuds/SherbetLemon
Summary: Four Paladins make four ill-considered wishes:‘I wish Lance would shut the fuck up.’‘Yeah, well I wish Keith’s mullet would fall off,’‘I wish they’d be more honest with each other,’‘Yeah I wish they’d justkissand make up already.’The only problem being: they come true.Keith is left bald, Lance voiceless and the two are saying way more than they intend to. Add in one unexplained kiss and Lance is reeling. The two go back to the planet to make one final wish and end up growing closer. Lance makes some startling revelations.A fic of accidental truths, questionable haircuts and one singular hammock. ♥





	1. Make A Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads-up for team dynamics I'd place this fic around season 2 with original pilots for the lions :)

The garden was like a Monet painting shrouded in dust. Mist filled the air of an underground cavern packed with willow trees and giant tulip-like flowers that bowed over a large pond fed by a rushing waterfall.

And it was humid.

Hair clung to foreheads, wet patches grew on clothing and words became irritating. Keith and Lance only had to take one step in before they had started bickering. All that was needed was for Lance to drape himself over Keith whilst complaining about the heat for the conversation to descend into chaos.

This was a sacred place, and the recently liberated Wisplings wanted the paladins to visit before they left as a thank you. They’d also offered them each a gold coin, telling them to make a wish when they got to the bridge.

Such an innocent request, getting ripped to shreds under their very noses.

Keith looked Lance dead in the eye before flipping his coin over the bridge in a perfect curve and said, ‘I wish Lance would shut the fuck up.’

Lance’s features scrunched up together like they’d been caught in a mini tornado.

‘Yeah, well I wish Keith’s mullet would fall off,’ he yelled, chucking his coin into the water with anguish.

‘Ouch killer wish, Lance. Sure got me there.’

Pidge sighed, flopping over the railing. She lazily flipped her coin into the abyss.

‘I wish they’d be more honest with each other,’ she huffed, quiet enough for the bickering twins to miss it. Not that there was much of a risk of them hearing when their attention spans were saved for one another exclusively.

Hunk laughed beside her, ‘yeah I wish they’d just kiss and make up already.’

His own coin flew through the air and landed in the pond with a plop.

Pidge studied the fencing, realising the light wood was engraved with golden cursive writing. She began scanning it with her armour.

‘What are you going to wish for Shiro?’ Hunk asked, smiling at the man. He looked tired and he wanted to take his coin back and wish him a day off.

Shiro shook his head, ‘I think I’ll keep the coin as a memento.’

Then he slipped it into his back pocket. Hunk wanted his coin back even more now, a memento sounded cool.

Pidge hummed next to him and he looked down at her.

‘Something interesting?’

She nodded, tapping the epitaph in front of them and reading something from her arm,

‘Speak your wish and it shall come true.

Keep it hidden and it is only for you.

The reeds are listening, and the willows believe,

Should you be lucky your wish is what you’ll receive.’

  
‘That’s a lovely poem,’ Shiro noted and Hunk couldn’t help but agree.

The garden felt magical, the poem making it feel more alive than before. And he liked the notion of speaking your wish instead of keeping it to yourself, mostly because he was nosy but also, how could anything happen if you never admitted you wanted it to?  

 

☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ✧･ﾟ * ﾟ *   ･   ｡   ﾟ 　  .   

 

 

  
A shriek resonated through the castle.

The entire team was woken up, not to mention Lance who was even wearing headphones in an attempt not to be disturbed. Footsteps pounded along the hall, right up to his room. Then fists were pounding on the door and enraged shouting was piercing through the metal, ‘LANCE. I KNOW IT WAS YOU SO YOU CAN QUIT HIDING. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE NOW.’

It was Keith - and he was pissed.

Lance really didn’t want to open the door, his bed was like a comfy cloud and the door protection against an oncoming storm. He yelled back, or at least tried to. His voice wasn’t coming out, not even fragmented whispers. He tried to cough but even that was silent. Now he was scared.

And Keith was still yelling.

He ripped his sheets open and marched to the door, slamming a hand over the locking panel.

He had a brief second to get an eyeful of a shiny egg head before his brain was hijacked. Or maybe it just fell out? Because the next thing he knew his hands were fisted in Keith’s shirt and he was dragging him into his room. His lips smashed into the others, met with desperate hunger as Keith’s hands flew up to Lance’s hair, fingers twisting into the short tufts.

It was hot and intense, no coherent thoughts exchanged before he pushed him away, wiping saliva from his lips with satisfaction. Then he froze. What had just happened?

Lance looked up to find an equally stunned Keith, blinking back at him.

Then his face was erupting with red, and he threw a finger at Lance.

‘I’M STILL ANGRY WITH YOU!’ He yelled before swivelling on his heels and storming from the room.

Lance’s head was reeling. First of all, he couldn’t speak, second, he just kissed Keith for absolutely no reason and third, Keith was bald. He let out a snicker, or as close to one as he could muster whilst he was stuck on mute. That was pretty funny. The image was going to be engraved in his mind forever. Light bouncing off the smooth skin that drew up from his bushy eyebrows. He’d never seen Keith’s forehead before, let alone crown. How had this happened?

And they’d kissed!? Where the hell had that come from!? Keith and him didn’t kiss. That never happened. Even if it had crossed his mind he just let it keep on crossing, right on over to the other side. Keith was his rival. Someone with feathers to ruffle, not lips to peck.

Plus, Keith was blaming Lance for everything, like an angered bull showing no mercy. But he had done a grand total of nothing since crashing early after their long mission. And he couldn’t see anyone else cursing Keith with baldness.

Oh god. 

Their wishes.

They’d come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever feel like you're having a little too much fun writing a fic? Anyway this has been lots of fun to write so far, especially the next chapter so look forward to it ( ^ ᗨ ^ )  
> THANKS FOR READING! ♥


	2. Bowl Cut Bitch

When he entered the kitchen, Lance found Keith brooding underneath his paladin helmet. His mind flashed back to the kiss and he felt a rush of heat flow through his veins. He squashed the memory to the back of his mind like a forgotten banana in a school bag and focused on the room ahead. Hunk and Pidge sat on the other side of the table and Lance flopped down between them, figuring it would be the safest spot. Keith’s eyes followed him the whole way and were staring daggers at him. He gulped, glancing at Hunk instead and trying to nod his attention to Keith.

‘Oh, buddy don’t worry we know.’

His heart skipped a beat. The kiss!? Keith had told them about the kiss!? Why would he do that!?

‘Who do you think suggested the helmet?’ Pidge chimed in, typing furiously into a laptop beside him.

He let out a sigh, sinking back into the seat. Of course, it was about the hair, or rather there-lack of. He’d barely even noticed it was missing with his helmet on.

‘See, it’s not ev-‘ he stopped, realising he was just mouthing the words.

This was a less entertaining development.

Everyone was staring at him before a smirk pulled up across the table, ‘I’m guessing my wish came true too?’

‘Wish well made.’ Pidge commented, and Lance smacked her on the arm.

‘Wait, so Lance can’t talk now!?’ Hunk exclaimed, gaze flickering around the group in alarm.

Lance nodded solemnly.

‘We can’t fix that!’ Hunk burst, ‘you can’t shove a helmet over Lance’s throat! Is he ever going to be able to speak again?’

Lance felt his features drop. This wouldn’t be permanent right? It was like a spell or potion, it would wear off in a few hours. He grabbed Pidge’s arm, eyes begging her to fix this.

She sighed, ‘I have no idea, Lance, I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to research the planet but it’s incredibly difficult to find anything of substance.’

Lance felt bile rise in his throat. He couldn’t live in silence all his life, what would his mother think when he couldn’t even say hello, or apologise for the wait? He squeezed his fists, digging them into his thighs.

‘It’s not going to be permanent.’

Lance looked up.

Keith’s stare was steel, the words a statement spoken with steadfast resolution. It was indisputable. Keith truly believed they’d fix this. That meant they would, one way or another. He nodded sharply, hands relaxing in his lap.

Allura glided into the room, something white and wispy folded over her arm. She placed it on the table in front of Keith before speaking, ‘right, I think this one will do.’

Lance leaned forward to get a better look.

It was a wig of spun sugar. Straight white hair styled into a fringe and lengthening into a curve at the back. Keith frowned before hesitantly removing his helmet.

There it was, the shining pearl.

Pidge giggled, keeping her head down whilst Hunk squashed his lips behind a hand. But Lance let his head fall back, unrestrained. Let the laughter consume him, there was no need to stop when it made no noise.

‘Wow that’s creepy.’ Pidge commented, and Hunk shuddered beside him.

Keith was glaring so he made an effort to sit up a little taller and composed himself, ready to watch the scene unfold.

Keith placed the wig carefully on his head twisting until it sat properly like a mannequin. Then he blew up at the hairs falling into his eyes with a huff.

‘I don’t know about this Allura,’ he said, with a pout.

Lance thought he looked like an anime villain and really wanted to make fun him for that, but nothing was coming out and he kicked at the table in frustration.

Pidge sighed and took sympathy on him, pushing her laptop across the table to him. A plain page was set up with vertical cursor line blinking in invitation. He stared.

‘Use it to talk,’ she prompted, ‘I’ll find a tablet or something for you later.’

Lance grinned and rubbed his hands together, ready for the mocking to begin.

It didn’t get to though because Shiro entered the kitchen and gave him a pointed look making his fingers camera shy.

Walking over to Keith, Shiro stood behind him and squeezed his shoulder, ‘see I told you we’d find something’

Keith groaned beneath him, ‘This is ridiculous, I can’t even see.’

He then made a point of sticking out his lower lip to blow the fringe up like a horse.

‘Alright,’ Shiro sighed, rubbing at his forehead, ‘Hunk get me a bowl and some scissors.’

Lance’s jaw dropped.

‘Are you gonna give Keith a bowl cut!?’ Pidge cried, eyes shining.

Lance grinned, drumming on the keyboard and bouncing with excitement.

‘Do not give me a bowl cut.’ Keith growled.

His cheeks were bright red, matching his jacket, and his glaring eyes had a hint of fear within them.

‘I’m not going to give you a bowl cut.’ Shiro reassured, although his tone was tired, like he really couldn’t care less for Keith’s fear of the bowl cut. It didn’t help the argument and Lance felt excitement well within him.

‘I’ll just use it make sure the ends are straight.’

Pidge shook her head in disbelief, ‘oh my god, Keith’s gonna get a bowl cut.’

‘I’m not getting a bowl cut,’ Keith hissed.

Oh, he was definitely getting a bowl cut. Lance typed out the words bowl cut several times, increasing the font to invasively large before twirling the laptop around.

‘IT’S NOT GOING TO BE A BOWL CUT!’ Keith yelled desperately.

Hunk returned with the bowl and handed it to Shiro. It was like handing over the Olympic torch, Lance had never seen a more pivotal moment in that kitchen. Pidge began chanting next to him and he slammed a fist onto the table in tune, mouthing along, ‘bowl cut, bowl cut, bowl cut.’  
  
Rearranging Keith’s position so that he had room to circle, Shiro draped a towel over his shoulders. Keith had a white-knuckle grip on his knees and looked like he’d been strapped to an electric chair. The bowl had been placed and the scissors began snipping away.

Lance was leaning on the table, chin propped up on his hands to get as close as possible to the action, wanting to record this memory straight to long term. Pidge and Hunk were the same and Keith refused to make eye contact, hard stare aimed forward with a clenched jaw. They were like threatening munchkins and Lance was proud of that.

The scissors hit the table. Shiro took a step back. Keith held his breath.

Silence fell over the room like the brief peace before a thunderstorm. Allura handed Keith a mirror and he held it up to his head before nodding. He was ready. And so was Lance.

Shiro lifted the bowl, white hair curving inward at the movement, making the cut more prominent.

Undeniably, a bowl cut.

Pidge spluttered into her hand, Hunk buried his head beside him and Lance became a Cheshire cat.

Keith stared at the mirror, unblinking. He glanced over to them, helpless. And Lance almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But it was too funny for that, so he collapsed into hysterics instead.

Allura, bless her soul, still stood firmly, face revealing nothing, ‘there now you can see properly.’

‘Yeah, that I look like a freak!’ Keith cried.

Throwing the mirror down on the table, he tore the towel off his shoulders and stormed out the room.

Lance gulped. Maybe he should’ve had more self-control? And if he was being honest, Keith still kind of looked cool. As much as it pained him to admit, he got real k-pop vibes from the new style and it occurred to him that maybe Keith only suited bad haircuts. Maybe he was the only reason they still existed, the example of when it worked. Because it did sort of work, the bowl cut was still a bowl cut and every bit as funny as it should’ve been, but it also made Keith’s eyes stand out and face more open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adored season six, it was amazing!!  
> Although now I feel guilty because I've realised my fic does not give credit to how mature they've become so I'm sorry!! 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING! ♥


	3. Haircut Take Two

When Keith didn’t return for dinner Lance began to worry. Pidge had given him a tablet and pen to speak with, so he was feeling okay with the situation the other’s wish had granted him. They’d already scheduled a meeting later to discuss how to reverse the effects, so it was only a matter of time - he was comfortable like this. But Keith wasn’t.

He decided to do something about that. Speaking with Allura he managed to get another wig, although a different style - plaits leading into a twirling bun at the back. Not as simple as the straight one but he could work with it.

Knocking on Keith’s door, he made to call, ‘hey it’s just me, Lance. I’m not gonna make fun of you... much.’

But the sound waves never formed so he stuck to continuously knocking. 

Not too much later, the door tore open. Keith stood at the entrance like a minotaur, arms crossed and frowning.

Lance smiled awkwardly before tucking the wig under his arm and writing on his tablet, _‘I have another solution to your hair problem if you’re willing?’_

Keith’s eyebrows rose, and he paused to think for a moment before stepping aside to let Lance into his lair.

Inside, Lance gazed at the vacant walls and cold interior. He wished it felt more homely, like he belonged. But it was just an empty space. He shook his head, dispelling of the distracting cobwebs as he walked over to the bed. Perching on the edge he tapped the floor in front of him, willing himself to forget the last time they’d been in a room together, just the two of them.

Keith faltered, seeming to consider fleeing before he relented and sat down. Lance took a moment to look at the wig, and was writing before he’d even thought about it, passing the tablet to the boy in front of him then immediately wanting it back. He’d written, _‘You kinda look like a k-pop idol’_ and Keith really didn’t need to know that.

‘If you’re just going to make fun of me you can leave now.’

Lance snapped. Snatching the tablet back, he deleted the message and scratched out a new one, _‘I WASN’T! IT WAS A COMPLIMENT.’_ Then he shoved it back into the other’s hands before he could evaporate with embarrassment.

‘Oh.’ Was Keith’s only response.

With his hair like this, Keith’s neck was exposed, and Lance could’ve sworn it was pinker than before. He smiled to himself, leaving the tablet with the other as he removed the bowl cut and replaced it with the new wig.

First, he went about untwisting the bun and combing through the plaits until a mess of curly white hair fell onto Keith’s shoulders. Now he just had to cut it into a better shape, a fancier replica of his previous style. He pushed half the hair into Keith’s face and began stroking through the back.

He could cut it short, let it curl around the nape. He had the power. The choice. But he let his hands wonder a little further down, cutting the hair to hang a little longer down his neck. ‘Like a mullet’ his brain supplied, and his face erupted with heat. For all he complained about it, he couldn’t imagine Keith without his mullet and now, scissors in his hand, he was returning it to its owner, like a lost puppy. And worst of all, he was looking forward to its return.

The back finished, he stood up and walked around to sit cross-legged in front of Keith. He had his eyes closed and expression tranquil. Lance couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so peaceful, it was almost entrancing.

He reached out to cut the middle tuft and Keith flinched, eyes fluttering open. Lance made to reassure him but, again, no words sounded. Instead he caught Keith’s eye and gently tugged on the hair and nodded to it in question.

‘Yeah go ahead. I just wasn’t expecting it.’ He mumbled, and Lance kept eye contact for a second longer before concentrating once again.

He cut it to fall just above the bridge of his nose, twisting it around his finger and letting it bounce back, looping at the bottom. He repeated with the side pieces, fingers brushing soft skin. He twirled each in the same fashion, lingering on the last. Keith’s lashes were long, resting on his cheek in a perfect curve. Were they always this long? He liked being able to notice. To be this close.

Keith’s eye peeked open and he quickly shuffled backwards, focussing on the haircut and not the wary eye’s hiding beneath it.

He looked like the old Keith, just dipped in Tippex. The fringe looped a little more and the back curled around his neck more closely, but the style was reasonably similar.

Lance grinned. He stole back the tablet writing out, _‘Looking good, how’s it feel?’_ and twirled it around before blushing. Why’d he have to write the first part? He shrunk behind the rectangle, refusing to look at the other.

‘It kind of itches my neck.’ Keith said, and Lance frowned. So he should’ve cut it shorter?

Keith reached an arm up, lifting the back into his hand whilst the other tapped across the abandoned parts of wig thrown about the floor. Finding an elastic, he reached up and tied up the rest in a small pigtail. He sighed and breathed out a relieved, ‘better.’

Lance wholeheartedly agreed, Keith looked much cuter like that. Then he mentally slapped himself for it. Where had his self-control gone!?

Maybe it was nerves, nerves he should’ve had earlier. He cleared his throat. They were tiptoeing around the mother of all elephants in that room and he figured taking a full step might bring him back to earth, or space rather. He knew damn well that Keith was never going to.

Tablet in his lap, he chewed his lip before settling on, _‘I’m sorry about earlier.’_

Keith cocked his head to the side. This new haircut was too much. His eyes were too wide, all seeing. They burned through Lance.

He stared at the tablet and wrote _‘the kiss’_ heat itching through his face as he avoided the other’s gaze.

‘Oh.’

Lance sighed, pushing the tablet between them so he could write whilst Keith read.

_‘Hunk told me he wished we’d kiss and make-up, I’m guessing that’s why it happened.’_

Hunk had pulled him aside soon after Keith had stormed out. He appeared constipated and like he was two seconds away from crying about it. Before Lance could even ask he’d exploded.

‘Lance! I’m so sorry, something weird is probably going to happen between you and Keith and it’s my fault! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done it, I don’t know why I-‘

Lance cut him off the only way he knew how; grabbing tightly to his arm and shoving his head into his line of vision, trying his best to throw him a look that conveyed ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Hunk wound his fingers around each other, swaying slightly, ‘while you were arguing in the cave I kind of wished you and Keith would kiss and make up.’

His face was flushed, and he cowered into his shoulders. Lance’s mouth dropped open. He was glad for the explanation although maybe a little disappointed, a small part of him wanted it to have been real. Then again, he hadn’t intended to kiss Keith either but still...

He shook his head violently and concentrated on the situation in front of him. Hunk was tearing himself apart with guilt and clued in on his situation with Keith. Pidge’s laptop wasn’t too far behind him, so he reached over and typed out a message.

_‘It’s okay, I’m sure the wish won’t take it literally, it probably just means we’ll stop fighting. You did good buddy!’_

Hunk looked up, astonished, ‘I hadn’t thought about that.’

Then his expression turned suspicious, ‘and nothing’s happened yet?’

_‘Nope!’_

Lance didn’t particularly enjoy lying but this spared Keith embarrassment and Hunk heartache. It was his best option.

Which brought him to his message to Keith, _‘don’t worry he doesn’t know what happened and I threw him off the trail.’_

Keith nodded and Lance felt verbal diarrhoea in his fingertips, _‘I’m really sorry I should’ve fought it more I made you uncomfort-‘_

Keith caught the pen in his hand,

‘It’s okay, let’s just...’

He looked away, at the floor just over his knee, face pink, ‘forget about it.’

Lance nodded but couldn’t help but feel hollow at the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥


	4. Shiro The Hero

Pidge stood at the end of the dining table, laptop and papers strewn in front of her with no discernible order as she addressed the group, ‘from my research, it looks like every person lucky enough to have obtained one of the Wispling gold coins has had their wish granted and that its effects have lasted indefinitely.’

Lance’s stomach fell through the floor. Arguments flashed across his face, like the flickering channels of a TV, but his mouth moved to no sounds. He slammed his tablet onto the table and scribbled out a message with grip harsh enough to permanently mark the screen,  _‘ARE YOU SAYING I’M NEVER GOING TO SPEAK AGAIN!?’_

Shiro placed a steadying hand on his shoulder but it only made him feel like the room was caving in. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening. It was a wish, a child’s game. No real-life consequences!

‘Has anyone been able to reverse it before?’ He asked, and Lance relaxed a little. Of course, it was just a lack of information. What was that thing Keith always muttered, patience yields focus? He just needed to be more patient. Beginning to feel a little better, he looked to Pidge, pinning all his hopes on her next words. Only she was shaking her head and they fell to the floor.

‘I mean, maybe? Nobody’s ever made a wish this stupid before.’

She was giving him a look that said, ‘are you honestly surprised that you walked into this one?’ and he tried to squawk before hurriedly writing out a message,  _‘IT WAS KEITH’S WISH THAT DID THIS.’_

He spun the board around and began pointing wildly in the direction of his recently bleached friend. He faltered when Keith looked almost sheepish, avoiding his gaze with a massive pout on his lips. And the unforgiving white hair was revealing pinkened cheeks. He stopped pointing. It’s not like Keith had done this on purpose. Letting out a huge, completely silent, sigh he collapsed onto the table.

‘m sorry.’

Was that?

He perked back up. It had barely been above a whisper, but he could’ve sworn it was Keith’s voice. He looked over and the other’s cheeks were now very red, and he was shrinking down into his chair.

‘I said I’m sorry.’ He mumbled again, eyes glued to the wall.

Lance felt his lips widen uncontrollably. He wanted to go irritate the boy. Poke his cheeks and get too close. Squeeze him underneath his arms until his muscles exploded. But the hand tightening on his shoulder reminded him where he was so he flung the thought from his brain.

‘Right, so what can we do?’ Shiro asked.

The room fell silent.

Pidge shrugged, ‘the wishes have never been reversed before because there was never any need to. Maybe if we ask the Wispling’s-’

‘No!’

Everyone turned to the voice, a little taken aback as if the noise were a firework that had exploded before the show. The sound belonged to Allura, and her hands were thrown out in front of her in alarm although even she seemed surprised by her own outburst. She cleared her throat, straightening once again.

‘What I mean is, the Wispling’s were generous enough to allow you into their sanctum, and you abused the privilege. We can’t let an ally think we are insincere so I’m sorry but we cannot afford to consult them on this business.’

Lance sucked in a sharp breath. Allura had a point but it left him out in the cold.

Hunk hummed, ‘well what if we went back and made another wish on our own to, like, counteract the first one?’

Pidge nodded, face contorting with concentration, ‘that could work. Everything I’ve read suggests every wish gets answered regardless of content, no reason why that one shouldn’t.’

Allura clapped her hands together, chair rushing backwards as she stood, ‘that’s settled then! Keith and Lance will return to Restax and make another wish to fix this mess.’

‘Well, actually,’ Pidge’s words carried the weight of the room and all eyes turned to her. She worried at her lip, fiddling with her glasses under their scrutiny. ‘Wishes only come true when they’re made with a Wispling gold coin, and they are notoriously difficult to get hold of, seeing as the wishing pool grants anything and everything.’

Lance’s heart sank, sliding down the snake back to square one. He really was going to be silent for the rest of his life.

Shiro shifted next to him and a metallic clink rang across the table. Lance barely spared a glance, assuming it was the sound of his arm knocking the table top, but a glint caught his eye, like a bottle top on the beach. He focussed on Shiro’s fingers and below them lay a shining disc, engraved with a koi-like fish leaping from water. A Wispling gold coin!

‘Shiro-‘ Keith began in a softly awed voice. Lance wished he could echo it.

‘You didn’t make a wish?’ Pidge asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Shiro shook his head, ‘I thought I’d keep the coin instead, something to remember the planet by.’

Lance felt water pool in his eyes. Maybe it had been a long day, or maybe the leaps and falls of the conversation had left him emotionally drained, but in that moment his heart constricted so tightly that he just wanted to enwrap the man with his arms. Shiro had lost his memories before and now he was trying to preserve them, using even the smallest opportunities. Then his team comes along and ruins it. They didn’t deserve Shiro. He saved them before they knew they needed saving, made sacrifices without a second thought, and had been through the ringer but still chose kindness. Lance wrote the only words he could, _‘Thank you, Shiro’_ knowing that they’d never be enough.

‘It’s not a problem, Lance. Just make sure you two come back in one piece.’

Lance smiled and then plans were quickly set into place.

The two would be taking a pod to stay incognito. No paladin armour and they were to blend into the background at all times. Coran handed them communicators that doubled as translators and sat in their ears like hearing aids.

Keith’s hair already gave him a good disguise but he tied his red bandana over his mouth anyway. Hunk gave Lance his welding goggles to cover his eyes and had gifted him his headband to tie around his forehead, although he felt that was more for Hunk’s benefit. The boy had teared up a lot before they left and hinted that it was a protective charm. Lance wasn’t about to reject that, plus he was distracted by how naked the boy looked without the orange strip. When was the last time he’d seen him without it? Probably back at the garrison when they shared a room. The realisation sent a pang of longing resonating through his stomach.

‘You ready?’

Keith had his head cocked to the side, eyes a little too intense for Lance to maintain contact. He nodded sharply, attempting to say a ‘yes’ but rolled his eyes when nothing came out. Keith smirked, letting out a snort of laughter. Then he turned back to the controls and launched them into space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mission with just the two of them huh? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	5. Hot Tempers

When they arrived on Restax the red sun was beginning to set just as the yellow one peaked over the opposing hill, casting criss-crossing shadows across buildings bathed in gold.

They’d parked among the sand dunes just outside the limestone city before making their way into the maze of alleyways the tower blocks created. Keith led the way, all serious determination and convict on the run. He checked every corner before beckoning Lance who lumbered after him, less than enthusiastic.

The Wispling’s were spindly creatures like oversized stick insects. Their body’s were covered in wiry white hair that formed a shell around them giving them a distinctively non-human appearance. Whilst they wouldn’t exactly blend in with the natives Lance hadn’t seen a single living organism since they’d arrived, so he deemed sneaking around like this to be a waste of energy. Especially given the scorching heat. Even in the shadows he felt like he was being baked alive.

The world was drifting out of focus so he lifted his steamed-up goggles onto his forehead and looked up at the cloudless yellow sky. His eyes lingered on the cobweb-like structures latticed across the gaps between buildings. They were the shed shells of Wisplings, stuck amongst the buildings to guide rainwater into the drains - the planet being so dry it couldn’t absorb the water falling on it. He could do with some rain right now. Or just a break.

Lance purposely dragged his feet, making as much noise as possible before collapsing against the wall and panting. Keith finally turned around, only to glare at him.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Lance sighed dramatically, slipping down the wall as he gave him a pointed look and tapped at his goggles before tightening his jacket around his waist. He couldn’t be bothered to fish the table from his pocket to write the obvious.

Keith stared blankly at him. His own jacket was tied around his waist, and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. Clearly, he was hot too. What exactly did Lance need to do before Keith realised he wanted to take a break? He let his head loll around his neck before kicking off the wall in silent defeat and following. It was too much energy to even argue.

The streets blended into one, each the same as the next and Lance was getting bored. They were stopped in a passage whilst Keith consulted a holo-map Pidge had sent him. That meant they were lost.

Lance dug around in his pocket and lifted out the coin, admiring the intricate design. Every scale of the fish seemed to have been carved with a different pattern. He began flipping it absentmindedly, throwing and catching with one hand. He stopped when he felt eye’s boring into him.

Keith was glaring, map open in front of him but Lance being studied. He met his gaze before raising an eyebrow and flipping it again.

‘You are going to lose our coin,’ Keith hissed.

This only served to propel Lance’s enthusiasm as he threw the coin higher and began walking forward. Keith’s expression grew evermore sour.

‘Lance.’

The coin was twirling wildly in the air as Lance closed the distance between them. Their chests were practically touching when Keith broke into a snarl. Releasing tension like a rubber band, he threw out an arm to make a grab for the coin. But Lance saw this coming and rose above him, chest pushing the other down as he made to catch it instead. Only Keith’s fist collided with Lance’s elbow, knocking him off target. The coin bounced off his fingers and flew in the opposite direction. Slamming into the wall, it reverted back with a horrifying clang before plummeting towards the ground. The two dived forwards but it was too late. The coin rolled along the street, scraping against the stone before slipping through a grate and tumbling into the drain.

‘LANCE!’ Keith cried, pushing himself off the ground and scrambling towards the drain cover. Lance clambered afterwards, the two peering into the abyss where the coin had fallen. He looked up with venom, fists squeezed at his side.

‘WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT!?’ Keith yelled and that was it, Lance’s tablet was in his hand in a flash.

_‘THERE WAS NO WAY THAT WASN’T YOUR FAULT!’_

‘HOW!?’ He screeched, ‘IF YOU HAD JUST LOOKED AFTER THE THING THEN IT WOULD STILL BE IN YOUR POCKET.’

Breathing like a bull, Lance scribbled out another message in angry lettering, _‘AND IF YOU HAD JUST TRUSTED ME I’D HAVE CAUGHT IT.’_

Keith made a derisive noise, ‘It’s not about trust Lance, it’s about not tempting fate.’

Lance shook his head violently, sweat flicking from his forehead. It was too hot to think, too hot to write, too hot to care. _‘Don’t lie to me when you don’t even think I can be trusted to carry out a mission!’_

Keith took a step back, features scrunching together, ‘Where did that come from!?’

Lance just glared at him before swivelling on his heels and stalking off in the other direction. Keith didn’t trust him, barely even liked him, there was no point sticking around for him to start hating him too. He’d get the coin back on his own.

‘Lance!’ Keith called from behind, but Lance kept walking. Footsteps followed, and he felt tears sting in his eyes. He didn’t need Keith to babysit him, or to take over his job. He spun around to shout forgetting his voice wasn’t even working anymore. God, he hated this planet.

Keith was taken aback and Lance immediately regretted turning around. He didn’t need to look like a mess on top of losing their coin. He wiped a hand across his face, then lifted his head to the sky and carried on walking. Keith trundled after him, silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff is coming soon I promise!! ♥


	6. Swimming in the Sewers

The yellow sun was setting, and the planet’s temperature dropped dramatically. Lance pulled his jacket further around his body as he stalked the gutters. He hadn’t touched his pen since their argument and Keith hadn’t bothered trying to make conversation either. That left him to simply focus all his efforts on the task at hand.

He was sure there’d be a break in the gutter at some point, a gap big enough to enter the underground passages through. At the very least there’d be a manhole for maintenance purposes. He was certain they’d find something soon if they just continued following the drains. Unless they looped together to one singular opening somehow, but surely that would be inconvenient? His descending thoughts were torn away by a hand grabbing his elbow.  

Hauled into a slim side passage, he whipped his head up, stunned. Keith’s face was centimetres from his own, finger pressed against his lips as he stared beyond him. Lance held his breath as he listened to the tapping of a Wispling skittering past. He watched Keith’s expression as he followed it go by, lips slightly parted. His hand was still clutching Lance’s elbow, his chest moving in and out, and bumping his own. It was too much. He was too close.

‘Okay, it’s gone.’ Keith spoke before glancing down. Lance’s thoughts were scattered where he’d let them drop when he went weak at the proximity. He smiled awkwardly, scantily gathering them back together and attempting to interface with the real world. Right, he needed step back onto the street. As he made to move something caught his eye.

Instead of leaving, he squeezed past Keith and further into the passageway where a metal square was cut into the ground. A manhole cover! Lance lifted the large rectangular handle easily, revealing a stone staircase that lead to the underlayer of Restax. A massive grin cut through his cheeks.

Turning around to Keith he nodded back to it and the other’s mouth dropped open. Then it moulded into a matching expression.

‘Finally.’

The two stepped down into the sewer which was really just an underground river system. Angular pavements lined the sides whilst flat bridges constantly crossed it, none acting parallel to the others. Lance fished out his tablet and began a purposeful walk through the tunnels.  

Keith peered over his shoulder curiously and frowned when he noticed there was no message. Lance sighed, flipping to a clean page and writing, _‘I made it track our movements after I dropped the coin, now we can just follow the path back.’_

‘Oh,’ Keith said before smiling and letting Lance lead the way, ‘I didn’t think of that.’

Rolling his shoulders back Lance allowed a bounce to return to his steps as he walked with his head high.

They came to the end of the line on Lance’s tablet in little time. Finally, the coin was within their grasp. A quick survey of the pavements revealed what Lance had feared; the coin had fallen into the river. Keith squatted at the edge, peering into the depths but the tunnel was too dark to see below the ripples.

There was only one thing for it.

Lance kicked off his shoes and jacket, handing the tablet to a bewildered Keith. Before an argument could spill from his lips Lance replaced the goggles over his eyes and jumped into the water with a splash.

‘Lance! LANCE! What are you doing!?’

Ignoring Keith’s concerned, yet mildly angered, shouts he began searching the depths.

The river wasn’t too deep although the bottom was still a good couple of feet from his toes. But with just a shallow dive, he could see the murky ground caked in mud and leaves. He swam around thanking the stars that the drains were just for rainwater. The dark colours meant the coin would stand out easily and after another three dives he found it, shooting through the surface with triumph.

Lifting it to the sky, he spun excitedly around searching for Keith and shaking it in the air above.

Keith laughed, plucking the coin from his hand and mystifying him with a sweet expression. Lance couldn’t help but stare dumbly at it. The way his eyes softened and muscles loosened. He wore it so easily and yet rarely let it peak out of the depths. Keith faltered and Lance quickly engrossed himself in the action of lifting himself from the water, desperately willing his cheeks to cool down and for Keith to stop being so damn cute. It was becoming problematic.

As he sat on the edge of the river, regaining his breath and squeezing water from his hair Keith decided to ignore his internal protests. He crouched beside him with that same knock-out curve on his lips. Lance wasn’t sure who he was more disappointed in.

‘Good job,’ Keith said before placing an ungodly electric hand on his shoulder. The piercing heat was brief when he immediately recoiled with disgust.

Lance was thrown for precisely one second before a wide grin spread across his face. The power was back in his court. As he tilted his expression toward the other like a possessed china doll, Keith backed away with fear in his eyes.

‘Lance, no,’ he warned, hands coming up in defence.

Lance’s eyes only shone brighter before he was launching himself at the other, tackling him to the floor in a wet hug.

‘Eugh! Why!?’ Keith cried, desperately pushing at the other and wriggling on the floor. Lance kept an iron grip, shaking his head like a dog, water flying from the strands.

‘Quit it!’ Keith yelped, although the giggles surrounding the words didn’t help his argument. ‘You’re getting sewer water in my eyes!’

Lance’s muscles were getting weak with laughter and he finally rolled to the side only to lie on the floor beside him, his own humour debilitating him. He watched as Keith wiped a hand over his face and stood up to reveal a large Lance-shaped patch on his shirt. Another wave of mirth flooded through Lance and he doubled over on the floor, clutching his stomach. Silent laughter poured from him as tears swept across his cheeks.

Keith shook his head, fighting a smile, ‘I wish I could still hear your laugh.’

Lance choked, eyes wide as he shot them towards the other. Keith’s face burned bright red and he was turning away, hand covering his mouth. He cleared his throat, back turned.

‘We should get going.’ He stated, heading back the way they came.

Lance hastily gathered his belongings, slipping his shoes on as he jogged after the other.

 

Entering the marketplace, they could finally walk in the open under a deep blue sky. The place had been a prominent cultural melting pot in this sector even under Galra rule so now it had been liberated, it was a hive of activity. With so many different species mixing together between the stalls and pale buildings, two humans didn’t need to worry about looking out of place.

They headed straight for the centre where the entrance to the Sanctuary lie, open for all to visit. Except the large mahogany doors were being shut with a loud slam that rang like a gong. Lance let his arms fall limp as he stared up at the wood looming over them, shutting away his only chance of getting his voice back.

The Wispling locking the door looked back at them before bowing their head in apology, ‘I’m sorry visiting hours are over for the day.’

Then their eyes lingered on Lance a little longer and he noticed the puddle forming on the ground below him. Smiling sheepishly, he shrugged and the Wispling made a quick getaway.

Keith tutted next to him before inspecting the doors, kicking at the slit between them. People in the square looked over, a few Wisplings taking cautious steps toward them. Keith shook the doors, lock clanking loudly like it was feeling the force of an Earthquake. Lance tugged at the back of his shirt, the city becoming quieter. The other finally looked around and Lance nodded to the market place that was beginning to form a mob. He swallowed before reluctantly following Lance away from the crowd.

They ended up sitting at the roadside, watching the bustling market, Lance practically falling asleep on the hand he leaned on. He sighed. There was no way they’d get in at this point without attracting unwanted attention and he had no idea how long nights on this planet lasted. Making a decision, he wrote out a message to Keith, _‘Let’s find a room somewhere and try again tomorrow?’_

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed at the tablet and he looked back out at the market, fight in his eyes. But then he tried to stifle a yawn and Lance shook his head, pulling him to his feet by his arm. He took back the tablet, writing _‘Don’t even try to argue’_ before passing it over and trying to spot a building that resembled a hotel of some sort.

On the way, they passed a stall piled high with fabrics. Aliens with various numbers of legs were holding pieces up for size and it appeared to Lance that the stallholder was selling clothes. He took a detour to get a closer look. Surely, they’d have something for a soaked bi-pedal such as himself? Rummaging through the piles he eventually found a pair of trousers, grey, tapering at the ankles with a square wave pattern in blue along the cuffs. Producing the emergency GAC Coran had given them he bought the pair.

Keith squinted at them, ‘why are you buying stuff?’

Lance rolled his eyes, tucking the trousers over his arm before wringing out his shirt. Water spilled onto the ground like a drain pipe at full capacity. He gave Keith a pointed look who seemed to accept the reason even if his frown revealed he wanted to fight.

Up ahead they found a building with a little sign displaying what appeared to be a hammock inside a box. That seemed promising, so they slipped inside and found it to be a hotel of sorts.

With Lance stuck on mute, Keith had to haggle for a room and Lance left him to it, gazing around at the furnishings. It was all various shades of cream and very basic - just a cactus-like plant in the corner and bean bags lining the edge of the room. The keys behind the desk were sorted by shape of creature, ranging from slug to spider. The Wispling receptionist gave Keith a once over before reaching behind them and grabbing the last key in the starfish section. Close enough, Lance thought, he was a star after all.

The Wispling explained directions to Keith before they were sent on their merry way. Lance couldn’t wait to collapse into bed. However, when they entered the room, that revealed itself to be a pipe dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can see where this is going...


	7. One Singular Hammock

The room was small. There was a door to the side presumably leading to the bathroom and an alcove set out like a wardrobe. But that wasn’t important. What was, was the fact that there wasn’t even a bed. There was a hammock, tied across the corner and hanging a few feet above the floor.

‘Cosy,’ Keith commented before squeezing past Lance and into the room.

He sat down on the hammock, already removing his boots. Lance was yet to move.

Keith blinked up at him. ‘You okay?’

Yes? No? Maybe? He didn’t really know. How exactly was Keith unbothered by this? There was a hammock - one singular hammock. Were they expected to share? Did Keith not mind? Did Lance really mind?

‘Lance. You’re dripping.’

That finally got his attention. Looking to the floor Lance found a patch forming within his shadow. Right, worrying about sleep could wait, he needed to change.

Swooping through the side door, he found a small, slim bathroom. It contained a simple bowl-like toilet and sink. The floor was sloped, and a plug hole resided in the corner. Looking around, he couldn’t see a shower head but instead found half the ceiling covered in dots. So, the room doubled as a shower? He bet it felt like standing in the rain. That thought alone made up his mind. Peeling off his shirt he decided a shower was in order.

Fiddling with the panel on the wall he managed to start the water and freezing daggers flew into his back, throwing him into a hailstorm of regret. He darted out, hugging his body and hissing out a swear. Of course, this should backfire – just like everything else had that day. He sighed, changing tactic by reaching an arm out to the buttons as his body contorted at every angle possible to avoid touching the freezing droplets.

Flicking through the settings in record speed, he adjusted the temperature to an acceptable level, allowing himself to finally step back under the flow. He relaxed instantly as warm water massaged his shoulders.

This was good. A distraction from Keith who’d taken up a new hobby of haunting his mind like an adorable ghost.

He played with the buttons lining the wall and ended up turning the water purple. The room burst with a floral fragrance of passionflower and daisies. It reminded him of the sanctum and he inhaled deeply, rubbing his arms.

The purple water revealed itself as diluted soap and lathered easily over his body, leaving every pore feeling refreshed. It was relaxing. His skin felt smoother than it had since leaving earth and he finally felt cleansed after a whole day of sweating in the scorching suns. This had to be the best shower in the universe and he would be having words with Coran about how the Castle was lacking.

With reluctance he switched off the water, quickly towel drying before slipping on his new pyjama bottoms. The material was like silk and brushed delicately against his skin like a butterfly’s wings. He felt boneless and wanted nothing more than to slide along the floor into the other room like a silky, smooth snake.

He walked (obviously) back into the other room and hung his damp clothes on the poles of the wardrobe. 

Keith had made himself at home, lounging on the hammock with one leg hanging over the edge and a hand flicking through Lance’s tablet.

Lance wandered over to him, crossing his arms and doing his best to loom. Keith casually looked up.

‘Good shower?’

Lance faltered before nodding.

‘Cool.’

Only then did Keith hand over the tablet, lazily getting to his feet and dragging himself to the shower room. 

Lance flopped down with a sigh. Why was Keith so cool? Lance felt like a mess. They’d spent the whole day together and now they were about to spend the whole night in frightening proximity. And the brief relief he’d caught in the shower had been obliterated when Keith had the audacity to exist in his line of vision, so, currently, he was all over the place. Thoughts of Keith riddled his mind. Old Keith, new Keith, close Keith. Keith’s hair, Keith’s voice, Keith’s lips. On his. Pressed close together, chests touching, words whispered.

He sat bolt upright.

He couldn’t be thinking like this. Of him. Of the kiss. Of every soft smile of the day. Keith sure as hell wasn’t. In his world, he had spent the whole day being dragged around a foreign planet by some idiot who lost a coin. He probably savoured the fact he wished him silent. How many arguments would they have had if Lance could speak? Actually, they still had managed to argue. At this point it was practically a skill.

Lance rolled over and buried his head in the fabric. Everything would be fine if he could just forget the kiss. Let it disappear into the recesses of his mind. He focused on the fabric below him. Soft. Supportive. Finally allowing his muscles relief from a day of hard work. His eyes fluttered closed.

 

‘Lance?’

Jolting awake, Lance found himself moving on an ocean. As he pushed himself up on his hands, his bed shook wildly. Nearly twisting upside-down, hands caught his waist before he could fall. The touch thrust him back into reality. Keith’s voice had woken him, his hands had caught him. He’d fallen asleep in the hammock they were about to share.

‘You okay?’

Lance nodded vehemently. Although the room was dark and the fabric below him just a shadow, he refused to look up at the figure holding him. Rebalancing himself, he shuffled across the bed as best he could, avoiding the gaze trained on him. Keith let go of his waist, holding the fabric instead and climbing in. The hammock swayed dangerously and the two slipped inwards, fabric curling around them.

Keith was flush against Lance’s side, muscles and bones sticking into the other. He lay stiff, still dressed in his day clothes with jeans digging into Lance’s hip. How was he supposed to sleep with all these hard edges?

Lance started wriggling. His shoulders twisted as his legs kicked and elbows raged on a war path. Keith grunted as Lance’s limbs clashed with his own, but otherwise didn’t say anything. When Lance finally gave up, he was laying on his front and still uncomfortable.

Keith cleared his throat, ‘you done?’

Lance turned his head just to glare at him. This was the least comfortable sleeping arrangement they could’ve found on this planet. They may as well have camped out in the sewer. He wanted to whine but his voice didn’t work and his tablet lay far below him in the chasm that was the floor.

‘Can I try something?’ Keith asked carefully.

It’s not like he could make things worse, so Lance shrugged in response.

Keith bit his lip, taking a final look at Lance that felt like he’d seen his soul before manoeuvring onto his side. Reaching his hands under Lance’s ribs he tugged him close to his chest. Then he slid his leg further over and rolled onto his back so that Lance fell onto him, head resting on his chest.

Lance held his breath.

There was so much Keith touching him. His arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs. And he was affronted by a smoky scent underpinned by the soft aroma of flowers.

It was nice. Really nice.

He sunk into the hold, shuffling over to fit comfortably between Keith’s legs.

Now that he wasn’t being crushed by human and hammock he felt like he could sleep, although the rush of his heart said otherwise.

He hazarded a glance upwards.

Keith was looking out towards the door and in the low light Lance couldn’t tell how pink his cheeks were. He didn’t need to though; Keith’s heart was underneath his ear and beating wildly whilst his skin radiated heat through his t-shirt.

His arms were wrapped loosely around Lance’s waist and a hand tapped to get his attention.

‘About what you said earlier,’ Keith said. His voice was far away, and he still didn’t meet Lance’s gaze.

‘I do trust you. I just...’ he sighed and Lance felt fingers play with the waist band of his trousers. ‘I get carried away, doing my own thing.’

Lance couldn’t answer and didn’t know how to anyway, completely thrown by his vulnerable honesty.

‘It’s how I’ve learned to survive.’

A pang broke through Lance’s heart and he fought the urge to nuzzle into the other’s embrace. Instead, he let a finger draw gentle patterns on the others pec, coaxing him along the conversation.

‘I’ve never had a team before,’ He said with a wistful voice, ‘sometimes I forget that I don’t need to do everything on my own. I can rely on you.’

Lance stopped his movements as the compliment echoed through his mind. But Keith wasn’t finished with him yet. He pinched his hip and jolt passed through him like a lightning bolt. His head sprang up in a knee-jerk reaction and he melted like the wax of a candle. Keith was sending him a smile softer than a baby bird’s feathers and it made his heart skip a beat. The expression was an endangered species never seen in the wild and he felt special to have witnessed it, his cheeks filling with the embers.

‘We work better together,’ Keith continued, and Lance felt his features morph into a mirror of the others, ‘we should do it more often.’

Lance let out a huff of laughter that was absorbed into Keith’s t-shirt. He was right. They fought too often when their combined arguments could make them unstoppable. They’d have probably already made their wish if they’d just worked together.

He found himself snuggling into the others chest – finding solace in how warm and homely it felt. Shutting his eyes, he tried to forget the unfamiliar room surrounding them, but tendrils of cold grew around his neck and caressed his skin like a witch’s fingers. His skin grew goose bumps and a shiver ran down his spine. Keith’s grip tightened.

‘You cold?’ He asked, voice so gentle that it was barely above a whisper and drifted with the night.

Lance nodded, head kept firmly on his comfortable chest. Keith remained unaware and made to sit up which was a move that Lance one-hundred percent disapproved of. He immediately wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders in a death grip and made like an anchor to pull him back down. Keith let out a soft laugh - how was he so soft!?

‘Just give me two seconds.’

He leaned dangerously far out of the hammock, hand tapping along the floor before he returned upright and draped something around Lance’s shoulders. As he lowered them both back down, Lance craned his neck to look at the new object and immediately melted. Keith had dropped his jacket over them like a blanket.

He liked this. Having all of Keith’s attention. And without even trying. He briefly wandered how he could make this permanent before his face erupted in fire.

There was no denying it now.

The reason his thoughts lingered on the kiss, why he was constantly looking for ways to tease the other and why it hurt so much when he thought he didn’t trust him.

He liked Keith.

And not as a team mate but as a romantic date. He really wanted to be his boyfriend.

For the first time that day he was glad for the loss of his voice box because he groaned, whole heartedly as he buried his embarrassment in Keith’s chest. Why did he have to realise that now? When they were stranded on a planet for another day and sleeping in a room that forced them together. This was going to make tomorrow so much more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	8. Rules Are Made For Breaking

Lance awoke groggily when something physically pulled him from his sleep. His ear was gently being stretched in circles and he batted at it with a hand. But the culprit was persistent. Annoying. He opened his eyes lethargically, vaguely processing warm stomach below him and breathing above.

‘I need to pee.’

Lance jolted at the proximity of a whispering Keith. He dove to the side and attempted to roll away. Only they were in a hammock where weight distribution was key and now completely wrong. The fabric vanished from his back and he sailed towards the floor, Keith tumbling after him. They landed with a huff, a mess of limbs and sleep-ridden minds.

Keith backed into a crawling position, hovering over the other. Lance stared up dumbly, unable to process anything other than the fact that Keith had basically mounted him. He slowly blinked down at him, wig twisted awkwardly across his head. It was too much. Lance couldn’t help it as a smile seeped onto his face and silent giggles spilled from his lips. Keith rolled his eyes, quickly climbing off him and striding towards the bathroom.

Lance collapsed onto the floor. Even with hair askew, he’d nearly got lost in the intense eyes that seemed darker than ever before. It was too early to already be assaulted with that wonderful position, that sexy unused voice and the less than sexy words.

Why couldn’t his epiphany have arrived tomorrow?

Like a parcel you wait weeks for instead of an unexpected relative holding a suitcase. Although Lance liked his relatives, however unexpected their arrival may be, so really this was a bad analogy because these feelings were obviously not a nice surprise. Think problematic. Keith was an explosion waiting to happen and unwanted feelings could scare him off for good. It was best to stick to the status quo if he wanted to keep their blooming friendship. The only problem was that it took three seconds of being awake for Lance to be kicked into overdrive by the other boy. An action plan was needed. Rules.

  1. No lingering stares - especially given they were heading into a sweltering hot cave with sweat dripping onto collar bones and slipping underneath-
  2. NO FANTASISING. When the train rocked up at imagination station he was to stay firmly on the platform.
  3. Maintain a distance of at least one metre at all times. Can’t get flustered by proximity when it doesn’t exist.
  4. Eye contact will only be made when completely necessary and last no longer than 2 seconds or else he’d fall into the abyss of those dark pupils and end up-
  5. NO FANTASISING LANCE GOD GET A GRIP.
  6. Just act normal.



Simple enough.

 

It was early in the red sun’s cycle so the two dressed quickly and made their way down to the market, figuring the sanctum would be empty at such an hour and thus they could make their wish in peace.

The square was quiet, and the red light tinted the buildings a pleasant pink. It also caught in Keith’s hair, dying the glistening edges peach, making them look soft to the touch. Lance’s fingers twitched at his side and he immediately shoved his hands in his pockets. Curse his rebellious, rule-breaking nature. How many was that? Two? Three? It didn’t matter, one was too many and they’d only just left the hotel.

Lance knew he was better than this and to maintain control he took the lead, guiding them to the Sanctum.

The doors were wide open, and they were immediately hit with a wall of heat that clung to them like cobwebs as they stepped down onto the staircase.

Sweating was a good activity for distraction. Lance had to continuously wipe at his hairline and shake his shirt to generate some cool air flowing against his skin. He could easily have been on his own with the amount of attention he paid to Keith.

Or to his surroundings. He stopped suddenly when he realised voice were echoing around them and Keith walked straight into his back.

‘Why’d you-‘

Lance shoved a hand over his mouth, staring at the ceiling trying to work out where their company was. It sounded like a group of Wisplings and eerily familiar. Keith tugged at his arm and he released slightly, hand still close enough to feel breaths brush against his palm.

Keith spoke, ‘they’re up ahead and not moving.’

Lance nodded and sighed with relief. They had time to make a plan. Speaking of, how many rules had he decimated now? He took a large step backwards, which Keith eyed suspiciously. There was no time for this. He dug out his tablet.

_‘Let’s sneak in for a look.’_

Keith nodded taking his hand, HIS HAND, and leading them to the wall, sidling up against it. If Lance wasn’t hot before he sure was on fire now. Didn’t Keith know about his rules, his plan? This was a violation of his authority. Then again, Keith had been the initiator. Would there really be any harm in seeing how things played out? Indulging in the feeling of a rough hand in his, he listened to the voices and Keith tugged him around the corner.

They ended up in the wishing room, hiding behind a large leafy plant. Keith leaned close, hair brushing across Lance’s cheek as he turned his lips close to his ear. Alarms rang loudly in Lance’s mind, blood fighting to get to his cheeks. He barely registered Keith’s words,

‘They seem dangerous to you?’

Lance took a shaky breath, processing the sentence. Danger right, of course. Important stuff. Missions. He peered over the plant, to where several Wisplings gathered, wrapped in purple ribbons and adorning crowns. Lance knew he recognised the sounds.

To get to his tablet he had to squeeze his hand past Keith’s thigh and concentrated on rule number six, just be normal, instead of the taught muscle curving against his own.

 _‘They’re the leaders of Restax and their entourage, we met them at the liberation ceremony,’_ he wrote out.

Keith nodded vaguely, and Lance figured he probably didn’t actually remember them. That or he was deciding whether they’d remember the paladins. Bad idea. Lance scratched out another message,

_‘They’ll recognise us even with weak disguises.’_

Keith frowned at the message, upper lip curling with frustration.

_‘And no we can’t just knock them out.’_

Keith whacked his arm, ‘I wasn’t going to suggest that.’

Lance raised his eyebrows, and Keith crossed his arms with a huff, ‘it’s good to consider every option.’

Lance smiled despite himself. He was glad he was here, Keith seemed to have a penchant for killing fresh-faced allies.

 

Thirty minutes later and they were yet to leave. Lance’s leg was cramping up and Keith’s wig was sliding from his head. His face was shiny and covered with pink splodges and his breathing became ragged. Lance wasn’t faring much better and he was thankful for Hunk’s headband in that it soaked up the sweat before it burned into his eyes. He made a mental note to throw it in the wash before returning it.

‘We need a distraction.’ Keith finally said, slipping back further into the foliage, ‘they’re taking the piss now.’

Lance nodded. The Wisplings were taking the piss. They were holding glasses shaped like foxgloves and spent eternity slurping down a millimetre of nectar. They also didn’t appear to be talking about anything of substance - clearly it was just a party. Tourists had walked in and out, greeted drunkenly before scuttling off, looking rather fearful. There was no way the paladins could get in without being cornered and possibly harassed.

A distraction was their best option. Lance considered their surroundings. The bridge was a good ten metres away and behind them was a jungle of plants. Presumably the river flowed through it, but only a pond size puddle was visible between the foliage on this side. The stairs opening out beside them was the only exit. And the only entrance.

Lance rearranged his legs to sit cross-legged, tablet on the ground between them. Keith leaned closer, moving into a crouch and hovering over the words.

_‘If we can make noise on the stairs they’ll probably leave to investigate. That’s when we make the wish.’_

Keith looked between the regaling royals and the stark staircase, a smile pulling at his lips. ‘Okay, how do you plan on making noise?’

Lance chewed on his cheek. The area around them was covered in stones and gravel which could be noisy like footsteps. If he threw them up the stairs it would sound like someone walking down or even slipping which would gain even more attention. But he was never much of a fielder, catching sure, but throwing? He had the aim but not the lift. Now batting, that was his jam. Or y’know, watching from the stands - cheering was just as important as the play!

Anyway, back to the task at hand. If he just had a bat or club he could hit the stones up onto the steps with a good swing. Or a sling shot? He smirked, untying his head band and checking its elasticity. Perfect. Looking around for a decent shaped stick, he could feel Keith’s eyes following him as he twisted his upper body around. It didn’t matter he’d understand once he saw the finished product. Grabbing a y-shaped stick, he tied the string and brought the device to his eye. Pulling on the string and letting it go with a twang he felt his lips pull at the corner. This worked. He glanced at Keith. Wait, why was he pink? Was it the heat? They had been in the cave a while, maybe it was getting to him? He picked up his tablet once again.

_‘I’ll shoot stones up the stairs. Once the Wisplings are distracted, you go to the bridge and make our wish.’_

‘Sounds good,’ Keith said sounding distant and looking beyond Lance, ‘can I have the coin?’

Lance nodded before digging it out from his pocket and placing the coin in the other’s palm, totally avoiding touching skin, obviously. He did not linger on the calloused palms, no siree! That would be against the rules and Lance was a stickler for rules, yes.

Keith made to move back into position before stopping, questioning himself. He looked the other up and down and Lance held his breath. Could he always feel his ears? It was as if they were struck by the match of Keith’s gaze and engulfed in the flames. Then Keith was leaning over him peering out at the wishing pool and Lance’s heart surged. He really needed to get a grip, just the smallest gestures were throwing him through a loop-de-loop. As quickly as it arrived, Keith’s body heat was gone. He began looking back into the mess of plant life behind them and Lance could breathe once again.

‘I’m gonna sneak through the undergrowth so I’m out of your way.’

Lance fought against the pout weighting itself on his lips. Keith wanted to give him space and he’d never wanted less in his life. He began gathering stones to distract himself. Soon after, Keith was gone and he gave him thirty seconds to get close before he began shooting.

The first rock soared upwards and clattered down the steps, the Wisplings twitching but ultimately ignoring the sound. He lined up another, the rock larger and aim lower. This one got a few heads turning. He picked up a third, casting it upwards before throwing some gravel too and diving behind the thick stems of their cover plants. The Wisplings were on the move!

‘I wonder if it’s a wisher?

‘Oh I hope it’s a wisher!’

‘Did someone say it’s gonna be a wisher!?’

‘Quick, quick! Get up there! It’s a wisher!’

Lance laughed, their drunken excitement was very sweet and hopelessly ironic. Hearing the final feet skitter across the steps he let out a sigh, finally standing up and indulging in a much-needed stretch.

He squeezed his eyes shut, arms reaching high above him as he arched his back until he heard the satisfying crack. When he came back to the room, Keith was staring, eyes almost glassy. Lance cocked his head to the side and Keith hid his own, standing stock still. Confused chatter echoed from above and their gazes darted to the entrance.

Keith quickly ran to the railing, ‘I wish for Lance to get his voice back!’

He flipped the coin high into the air, glancing over. Lance stared at him, eyes the size of dinnerplates. Keith had missed something there. He shook his head desperately trying to convey this.

‘OH! And I wish for my old hair back!’ He spluttered just in time for the coin to drop into the water.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, flopping over his upper body. It was only a matter of time now. They’d fixed this mess. Almost didn’t with Keith’s lack of concentration – how did he forget his own wish? That was kind of suspicious. Heat pooled within Lance’s stomach as something dawned on him. Keith cared more about fixing Lance’s curse than his own.

The voices were closing in again and Keith sprinted to his side, colliding with him as he ducked in for cover. Lance laughed as he fell back into the flowerbed, Keith’s face glowing red as he quickly scrambled off and assumed position, crouching like a coiled spring.

The spindly legs of the Wisplings rushing past cast shadows across Keith’s face like light from a train window. His features were etched with smouldering concentration once again and Lance caught himself staring. Even more of a revelation was that he caught himself staring and not caring that he was staring. Keith had a nice face - he was allowed to look at it. Fuck the rules. He’d just found Keith caring for Lance more than himself and that wasn’t part of the plan. The thought had him giddy.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Keith is losing his cool and Lance is noticing.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! ♥


	9. Luck Is Made For Pushing

In the sensible section of Lance’s mind there were speeches and articles about how team mates treated one another. There were pages and pages about proper conduct on missions that he followed every day. However, the more observant part was doing a cracking job of noticing Keith’s face – more importantly the fact that it grew red an awful lot.

Previously, Lance had only dared to glance at it from the safety of the other side the room. But now that they’d agreed to stick around Restax until their wishes came true, he had a lot of time to spare. So, as they walked around the market place, Lance watched. And he discovered that Keith’s features were far wobblier than he’d first thought. As soon as Lance was within the other’s personal bubble, Keith’s lips trembled, his eyes widened, and his brows rose. So maybe it wasn’t entirely appropriate to find himself pressed right up against a teammates arm when guiding them through a crowd, but, hey, this was for science!

And Lance was sure he’d found a correlation between how close he stood to how bright Keith’s cheeks burned. It was almost like he had a thing for him. Then again, it could’ve been due to the heat of the planet or the hundreds of aliens crammed into one small space. Plus, if having scientists for friends had taught him anything, it was that correlation did not mean causation. Therefore, his hypothesis needed testing. And the only logical way to do that was to flirt.

Lance’s first instinct was to go for a line, a long list flying through his head like a flock of starlings. But, alas, he was a fox - cursed with devastating charm but no words to play with. He had to dig a little deeper. Not that deep though, he was Loverboy Lance after all. And coming up to the next stall, opportunity presented itself like a gleaming diamond necklace.

The table was covered with colourful trinkets and shiny containers. Lance found himself drawn like a magpie to a metallic box that winked at him from the centre. He lifted it up to his eyeline, the light bouncing off its mirrored edges catching Keith’s attention. He let his grip loosen. The box slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the ground. Looking to Keith, the picture of innocence, he feigned a gasp before letting his sly plan loose. Bending dramatically at the hips, Lance leaned down to pick it up, wiggling his ass a little and checking the reflection in the box. Indeed, Keith’s eyes were blown wide like an owl and his face was that of a tomato as he stared at Lance’s rear. Oh, that was definitely not a textbook, “just teammates”, reaction.

He bounced back up, feeling smug after executing a perfect bend and snap that Elle Woods would be proud of. Smirking at Keith, he watched as he other finally tore his gaze away, radiating more heat than a volcano.

‘Can you at least try not to destroy the goods?’ He mumbled, and Lance had to consciously fight the urge to laugh in his face. The goods? It was like the gods had blessed this perfect moment. Lance raised an eyebrow, knocking his hip into Keith’s before gesturing to himself suggestively, shimmying his shoulders. Keith barely covered up a choke, pretending to cough into his hand, as red poured from his neck. Lance rubbed his lips together, evil plans sprouting through the fields of his mind. This was going to be fun.

As they ambled along to the next stall, Lance’s hand brushed Keith’s approximately one hundred times. He had “tripped” a grand total of fifty times, his entire body pressing into Keith’s each time he “lost balance”. He was caught every time - Keith’s reflexes being like a cat’s, and when Lance looked up into those deep eyes he saw a very flustered, very confused boy. The grip on his arms was tense and when he righted himself, Keith scratched at his neck, refusing to meet his eyes, which was precisely why he had to do it again. Those beautiful gems were addictive!

At the stall, Lance insisted on using the other’s shoulder as leverage as he leaned far too close in to pick up goods he didn’t even want from the other side of the table. One time his excitement nearly caused a head on collision as Keith ducked down to look at a particularly interesting book. When Keith recoiled, the culprit simply played innocent, having had years of practice since his siblings were snitching little brats.

Keith was getting a little irritable with the crowd though, so Lance took pity on him and lead them to the edge of the plaza where there was room to breathe. Room to stretch. And that’s exactly what he did. Lance dropped into a lunge, maintaining eye contact with Keith as he bounced and swapped legs. The other’s lips twitched, and his eyes shone with amusement, so Lance took it up a notch. High-kicking his leg, he dropped it onto the wall above his head and stretched out his calf. Keith’s eyes widened, blood flooding his cheeks and he quickly averted his gaze. Lance smirked. Today was the first time he’d seen so many of Keith’s expressions at once and he swore he was getting high on the adrenaline rush each one brought. It was a struggle not to pull the other into his arms, cover his face with kisses and annoy the hell out of him.

Which meant he was getting out of control. When they re-entered the crowd he clutched Keith’s arm tight to his body, and the lightest bump from another alien had him falling into the other. The second sun was rising now, the temperature doubling but he couldn’t tear himself away even when he could feel sweat dampen his shirt.

They arrived at a quieter stall, selling lighters and lasers in chrome cases - practical gadgets they could feasibly buy. Lance spotted an s-shaped lighter on the far side and immediately dived for it. The fact he’d chained himself to Keith had slipped his mind entirely with the excitement that he could potentially own a double-ended fire stick. Keith let out a squeak of surprise as he was suddenly yanked forward, mouth colliding with the back of Lance’s head.

‘Ugh, get your hair away from my mouth Lance,’ he spluttered and the tone was aggravated now, previous amusement gone.

Lance chose to ignore this and lifted his head, shaking out his hair so that it flicked Keith. In response he was shoved forward, knocking into the table and causing the wares to shake violently. Before he could right himself, Keith was wriggling his arm free from Lance’s iron grip. Freeing it like the sword from the stone, the momentum sent him stumbling into a few steps of retreat. Lance frowned, dropping the lighter in favour of digging his tablet from his pocket. He threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders, but the boy immediately rolled it off with a huff.

‘Can you just stop?’ He spat out with a glare, arms folding across his chest.

Lance cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and Keith rolled his eyes at the gesture.

‘This!’ He cried, throwing his arms out, ‘getting too close, being all touchy feely. I don’t get it!’

Lance hooked an eyebrow, and took a defiant step forward, pointing at his throat. He didn’t miss the way Keith’s eyes lingered on the spot, so he bared more of his neck. He watched Keith’s perfect pink lips part slightly, caught the way he drew closer. Lance’s heartbeat quickened, butterflies swelled in his stomach. He wanted Keith’s lips on him so badly. Like how he needed an ice-cold lemonade in this intense heat. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. A tongue slipped over Keith’s lip before his gaze ripped upwards.

‘No!’ He yelped taking a huge stride backwards, ‘this isn’t…you’re not...I keep thinking….’

He shook his head, hands flying up to drag through his hair and yank tufts between his fingers.

Lance reached forward to land a hand on his shoulder and Keith briefly leaned into the touch before leaping away like it was on fire. His eyes were wild like an animal and his muscles were wound tight. He was scared. And now Lance was too. He made to speak, desperate to explain himself but his damn voice box was missing in action.

‘I’m sorry, Lance. I can’t do this.’ Keith said, backing up as his hands raised in a sign of defeat. ‘I have to go.’

And before Lance could even think to stop him, he bolted through the marketplace.

Lance was left alone. He rolled with the waves of an undulating crowd feeling cold and empty. He’d pushed too far, got caught up chasing thrills when so much more was at stake. There’d been a glimmer of hope, an oasis lying in the far side of his vision but he’d selfishly refused to look at it, playing among the cactuses without seeing the spines.

A popping sound like oil in a frying pan broke him from his thoughts. His com crackled to life, a small resigned voice speaking, and Lance felt the world slow to a fraction of its regular speed.

‘Lance, it’s me,’ a brief pause then he added, ‘Keith.’

Lance smiled despite himself. What a dork.

‘I’m sorry. About yelling and, uh, storming off.’ He let out a long sigh like a deflated tire, ‘I just... I kept misreading the situation or trying to misread the situation to make it suit my own desires.’

Lance’s heart stuttered.

‘I didn’t deal with any of this properly because,’ Keith’s voice hitched. He took a deep breath.

‘Because I like you.’

Then his words were falling quicker than a landslide ‘And I know that’s not your problem and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you but god,’ the word was drawn out like Keith was in physical pain, ‘having you that close, being around you all the time, keeping all your attention, I wanted it so badly. And I wanted more. I don’t trust myself not to-‘ he cut himself off, regaining composure. All Lance could do was listen, heart stuck in his throat.

‘Not to repeat yesterday.’

Yesterday? The kiss!? Lance’s mouth dropped open in silent shock and he desperately wanted to scream for him to come back. But Keith was talking again, resolute like a fire burned beneath him.

‘I’m not going to make things awkward for you or the team,’

No, no, no this wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

‘and the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.’

There was zero percent chance of that happening.

‘The best thing for me to do is stay away.’

Lance’s heart shattered. That was the complete opposite of what he should be doing. He wanted to demand Keith to return. Squish those stupid cheeks between his stupid hands and plant a stupid kiss on those stupid lips.

‘So I’ll see you at the pod tomorrow morning, okay?’

No, that’s not okay.

‘Bye.’

And then the buzz was gone and Lance was thrown back into the swarm of people milling around the market place. The sounds mixed into background noise and he rolled with the pushes and shoves like a flag in the wind. He felt water slide onto his cheek. Keith thought, he actually thought that Lance didn’t want him. That he’d misconstrued everything. That Lance got too close for practical reasons, that there were no ulterior motives. No barely concealed desires.

That idiot.

Lance was instantly fuming, lit up like a gas burner. His fists bunched at his sides and he swiped the tear from his cheek, marching from the market place on a mission. That idiot actually thought he could get away with this. Saying all that over a com, knowing full well Lance couldn’t say a word back. Oh, that mullet was going to be in for a shock when the full force of Lance’s wrath hit him. He was ready for a fight and, wishes be damned, he was going to let Keith know exactly what he was thinking whether he liked it or not. Keeping thoughts to himself had gotten him into this mess and he wasn’t about to lose the best thing that could possibly ever happen to him because somebody was a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy what a roller coaster of a chapter! ( ^ ᗨ ^ ) 
> 
> I rewrote this a couple times because I couldn't decide on a direction but I'm glad I chose this one, it was fun to write!  
> Thanks for reading!! Next chapter will probably be the last ♥


	10. Speak your wish and it shall come true

As it turned out, finding one small needle in a planet-sized haystack was extremely difficult. You could say impossible. Could. Although it was slowly turning into a would the longer Lance trekked around this Keith-less planet.

With a crude drawing and a shrug of his shoulders, he’d asked every stall owner in the marketplace whether they’d seen his missing companion. He’d combed through the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Georgian style hair. He’d sunk back into the drains, wandering the empty sewers to no avail. He was out of options as the sky grew dark once again and the streets began to empty.

With a sigh he rolled his head back, staring up at the stars. The atmosphere tinted them purple and the sky was dotted with several blue moons giving the illusion of broken buttons and glitter spilt over a velvet sheet. He shivered. His hand felt empty. He could have been sharing this view. Should have been. Would have been if Keith wasn’t so thick headed and Lance wasn’t so self-involved.

This sucked.

He dropped his head forward as if his neck were a bungee cord before gazing around hopelessly. A glint caught his eye. In the low light, the Wispling shells webbed between the buildings shone silver like raindrops. Maybe there was another option? A last resort. Using a window sill for a boost, Lance clambered onto the lowest awning. It looked like a giant boiled sweet under his hands, translucent with streaks of bubbles and waiting to snap. He stood up, bouncing on his toes. The shell dipped a little with the movement like a plastic sheet but luckily no cracks formed. Safe enough.

Lance began striding across the thin roofing, leaping across gaps and cringing when a crunch sounded below his feet and dust fell into the abyss. He felt like a ninja, climbing up to the villain’s hideout, poised for attack. Keith would be good at this. The thought made his chest tighten.

Reaching the top, relief flooded through him as he stepped onto a surface that stood strong under his weight. Cool air rushed over him as he turned to gaze at the city below.

The streets glowed orange, light reaching out from windows like cats stretching after a nap. The market place was nearly empty, the cobbled ground finally visible as the last stall holders packed up their wares. There were no hiding places from here, Lance could see the whole city and beyond, out to the rolling sand dunes and barren wastelands. Nowhere for a short-tempered paladin to blend into.

Keith must’ve found a hotel by now. Was probably happily tucked up in bed whilst Lance scaled buildings trying to find him. He sighed, collapsing onto the ground with a huff. Logically, he knew that Keith could look after himself. That he could stay out of trouble for one night. Hell, he’d lived alone in the desert for who knows how long. As he’d told him just last night – Keith was used to it.

Lance shivered, pulling his jacket closer to his shoulders. It made yet another memory resurface. The one of a jacket being draped over him. He let the thought stay there in his mind. Let it push tears towards his eyes. Let it sit heavy in his chest. Keith didn’t want to be alone. He was just used to it. He didn’t believe Lance’s advances because he never thought he’d received them. Alone was Keith’s default setting.

And, apparently, Lance’s was dumb. He kicked himself, rolling onto his side and curling over his stomach. Lance had never used his voice properly. He’d used it to joke, to tease, to lie. And now it deserted him when he needed it most. Because what Keith needed was the truth. He couldn’t read between the lines like Lance could. Hell, up until yesterday, Lance was sending out so many mixed signals that even he himself couldn’t decipher what was going on. And when he finally did become aware, he abused the power. No more games. Lance was going to tell Keith exactly what was going on. It was just frustrating that they had to wait one more night.

Lance had intended to go back to the hotel after his search came up short but that fell through when he found himself blinking awake under a twilight sky, not a single cell in his body feeling refreshed. Rolling onto his back, he stretched out his cramping muscles and groaned as the aches settled into his bones. Note to self – never go brooding on rooftops late at night. Wait.

He’d groaned.

‘Is my?’ He questioned aloud before throwing himself into an upright position. ‘MY VOICE IS BACK!’

Scrambling to his feet he threw his arms high above his head before letting out a loud whoop.

‘LANCE IS BACK BABY!’ He cried, laughing to himself and spinning circles. ‘I have to tell Keith!’

His spinning stopped abruptly, leaving him a little woozy. ‘Whoa. I can tell Keith. Holy shit.’

His hand was on his ear before he had a chance to think about it. Without even considering the hour, he was yelling into his com.

‘KEITH! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU.’

The line was silent and he began pacing before a soft groan came trickling through.

‘Lance?’ Keith spoke groggily. 

‘Oh you better believe it.’ Lance replied, already feeling his previous frustration burst back into his brain.

‘Your voice is back.’

Lance faltered. Keith’s tone was fond, dripping with sleep and so goddamn soft. He had to stay strong. ‘Yeah. It is. And I’ve got a few choice words for a certain stupid mullet head. Newsflash, it’s you!’

Keith gave a small sound of protest, ‘can it wait until morning?’

Oh, the NERVE.

‘No, it cannot Keith.’ Lance replied bitterly. ‘Because somebody decided to have a conversation with me WITHOUT HEARING MY SIDE. So, believe me, this has waited long enough.’

‘Oh,’ Keith replied shyly, ‘you wanna talk about that?’

‘Obviously.’ Lance huffed. ‘So what hotel you in? I’ll come down.’

The other end was suspiciously quiet.

‘Keith.’ Lance prompted. The stubborn silence drew on.

‘I am not doing this over the phone.’

After another defiant moment of nothing Keith sighed heavily and in a mouse’s voice said, ‘I’m in the pod.’

‘Oh my god.’ Lance shook his head and began his descent.

‘Y’know what? I shouldn’t even be surprised.’ He cried, irritated words falling with every stamp he took down the roof, ‘Of course you’re in the pod. Where else would you go? Not to a hotel, ooh no. That would be far too sensible. Cos that would stop Lance worrying. No, the obvious choice is to leave the city unannounced and make sure your team mate spends the whole afternoon looking for you when you’re not even there. Well done Keith. Great idea.’

Lance’s babbling didn’t stop when he got to the ground. It carried on all the way through the city and up to the pod, giving Keith a literal earful. On arrival, he slammed the door open and found Keith curled awkwardly in one of the chairs.

‘Oh hello coward.’ Lance greeted with a sneer.

Keith raised a hand in a small wave, sitting up to say, ‘hey.’

Lance marched right up to him, accusing finger first.

‘You think you can just confess to me and then leave! You don’t even stick around for my reply!?’

Keith shrunk down, ‘I didn’t want to make things weird between us.’

‘And running away was the best way to do that?’

Lance had his arms crossed, looking down at the other who avoided his icy gaze. Keith spoke in a small voice.

‘I was scared.’

‘So was I.’

Keith looked up then. Lips parted in surprise. As if he didn’t think Lance would worry. That was the last straw. Lance grabbed Keith’s face in his hands and dived into his lips. Keith froze under his hold as a wet kiss landed on him.

After a second, Lance leaned back, hands moving to the other’s shoulders as he gazed into his eyes, commanding all of Keith’s focus.

‘I like you.’ He said firmly. ‘I care about you. Stop doing everything on your own.’

Keith’s eye’s glistened as he stared at the other. Then his lips twitched, and a broad smile overtook his face, cheeks glowing red.

‘I may have made a slight misjudgement.’

‘You think!?’ Lance exclaimed but his tone was fond now. He finally had Keith in his arms – and a happy Keith at that! He didn’t want to let go. ‘But, yeah, I think I made one too.’

Keith raised an eyebrow at this and Lance released a shoulder in favour of scratching the back of his neck. ‘I, uh,’

Wow his throat was dry. He coughed, ‘after the whole wishing thing I um,’

Biting his lip, he took in Keith’s face. His eyes were large black holes staring up at him and his lips were parted, glistening with Lance’s saliva as he hung off every word. He gulped. No turning back now.

‘I sort of suspected you liked me.’ Keith’s cheeks pinkened and Lance swallowed hard.

‘And then I started teasing you to try and confirm it but I got so caught up in the whole thing I never got around to, you know, actually confessing.’

Lance closed his eyes and braced himself for a scolding but instead heard a scuffle of laughter escaping Keith’s lips. Opening his eyes, he watched Keith’s futile attempt of covering his smile with a hand. Lance caught his arm and pulled it away to release the wide, uncontrollable smile surrounding the sweet sound. He leaned in, smirk hooked on his mouth as he moved to catch Keith’s eye, ‘hey, what’s so funny?’

‘Everything.’ Keith squeezed out, eye’s locking with Lance’s as his mirth grew. ‘The fact that your terrible flirting skills was the thing that made me finally decide you’d never like me.’

Lance couldn’t help it as his face mirrored Keith’s, scrunching his eye’s as laughter took him over.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lance wheezed, tearing up, ‘I really wish I’d just confessed.’

‘No,’ Keith cut in, finally calming enough to speak, ‘I wish I had. I mean properly, like face to face.’

With a smile, Lance lifted his head and leaned in far closer than necessary so that all he could see was Keith’s eyes.

‘Then let’s redo it.’

Keith raised an eyebrow, and Lance leaned even closer so that he could feel the other’s breath brush his lips.

‘Keith.’ He said, voice barely above a whisper. ‘I like you. Go out with me.’

Keith grinned and Lance felt his heart skip a beat. He wetted his lips.

‘Lance,’ he began in a dark silky voice that made Lance’s knees go weak. ‘I like you. Go out with me.’

‘Okay,’ was all he had time to say before Keith surged forward and captured his lips as his own. Hands gripped onto his upper arms, twisting the fabric of his jacket and dragging him closer. As the two tilted into a better angle, Keith hummed into the kiss and the vibrations tingled across Lance’s skin. He felt warm all over like he was basking in sunlight and he met Keith’s pressure with need. Brain not processing anything but happiness he let his hands travel up Keith’s neck, thumbs brushing his jaw before they wandered into his hair.

His fingers stroked across his scalp and tugged at the strands. Before he could stop it, a giggle was spilling from his lips and he had to break the kiss. Keith had his head tilted in confusion and Lance felt another rush of his heart.

‘Your mullets back.’ He supplied, and another wave of laughter flooded through him. He leaned his forehead on Keith’s shoulder, legs giving into his giddy stupor.

‘I missed it.’ He whispered.

Keith laughed then. A light sound, close to his ear that swelled through his heart. His head knocked into Lance’s ‘I knew you liked it.’

‘If you tell anyone I’ll deny it.’

Keith snorted, ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

And then the kisses were on his neck and Lance was ready to collapse with how hot the tiny ship had gotten. He kissed the clavicle below his head and climbed onto the other’s lap.  Wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, Lance left lazy kisses all the way up to Keith’s mouth before kissing him once again. Slower this time, gentle not desperate. His world converged onto Keith, existing only in his embrace. When they finally parted, Keith’s lips were a deep pink and his lids were heavy.

‘Wanna have a nap before returning to the real world?’

Lance nodded tiredly, snuggling into the crook of Keith’s neck, ‘I’m starting to think three am wasn’t the best time for confession.’

Keith hummed in response, ‘maybe not. But I’m glad you did.’

Lance smiled as he shifted into a more comfortable position, head resting against Keith’s chest, legs spilling over the arm rest.

‘Yeah,’ he agreed quietly, ‘me too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all the kudos and lovely comments!! They really mean a lot to me! ♥   
> I was going to wait to upload this but I got too excited, so I hope you've enjoyed! xx
> 
> Here's the link to my [tumblr](http://smolstrawberrychara.tumblr.com/)


End file.
